


Peter 4:8

by Destinyawakened, orphan_account



Series: Will Graham's A Series of Unfortunate Holidays [7]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #JustFuckMeUp, AU, Altar Sex, Altars, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Blasphemy, Bottom!Will, Dirty Talk, Father's Day, Father's Day fic, JustFuckMeUp, M/M, Masturbation, Priest Kink, Will confesses his sins, bible scripture kink, bible scripture references, priest!Hannibal, top!Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 19:05:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7118758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destinyawakened/pseuds/Destinyawakened, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s beautiful,” Will stated with a little sigh. “Hannibal’s passion just after a kill is like nothing else either. Seeing him covered in blood makes me-” Will stopped there, biting his own lip and canted his head toward the barrier between them. “-squirm.”<br/>Hannibal craned his jaw and gripped his thighs that bit tighter as Will played him perfectly at his own game. And oh, if the cannibal didn’t adore that. “Are you squirming now, my son? Confessing to these heinous sins and just how much you indulge and delight in them? Do you enjoy feeling such filth roll past your tongue?”<br/>Hannibal’s head canted to the side as he pressed one hand to the wood, gently, as if caressing it.<br/>“I shouldn’t, but I do.” Will leaned back, legs splayed, and pressed his palm in against his groin. “It makes me so very, very hard just thinking about it, much less confessing it.” His voice drop an an octave as he set fire to nerves that made his eyes bloom dark with lust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peter 4:8

**Author's Note:**

> 1) No Beta, as usual  
> 2)Little bit of priest kink, bible times blaspheme for you guys. If you have issues with offence to God or the like, please do not read. You were warned.  
> 3) part of the #justfuckmeup week  
> 4) also part of our holiday fics, this one represents Father's Day.  
> 5) enjoy :)  
> 

**"Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins."**

Everything evil had once first had to be innocent. Corruption was the line that connected the two.

Norman Chapel, Palermo. A place Hannibal was very fond of for many reasons. However, no sane man would return to the scene of his crimes. And as the authorities suspected Hannibal was fully sane, he had no compunction about not only returning to the Chapel but hiring it out for the evening under the pretense of a private wedding.

But what he had planned was something much more intimate than that.

He had sent Will a text earlier in the day and given him the address. He had no doubt the boy would be wise enough to be discrete. The Chapel doors were left open, for now. However, once inside, the Chapel was near pitch black, the only light source emanating from confession booth. Amber patterns flickered over the tiled floor as the candle flames danced inside the respective sides of the booth. For now, the confession guard remained up and Hannibal sat silently, head bowed and hands clasped in his lap over his dark, heavy, woollen robe.

Clad in flannel of blues and greens, and a pair of khakis, Will entered the chapel, well aware this was the spot he left his gift for Hannibal on Valentine’s Day, and the notion was not entirely lost to him. Booted feet clumped around the area a bit, and when nothing seemed to stick but the confessional booth, Will finally sighed internally, and slipped inside, shutting the door behind him.

Never one for church -- let alone a Catholic one-- Will awkwardly sat there, hands clasped in front of him, chewing the inside of his cheek, wondering if he had to say something, or…

The wooden panel slid back with a bank, leaving only the carved wooden grate between them and orange hued dust cast upon candlelight, “How many days since your last confession?” Hannibal managed to speak with a tone that was both commanding and laced with mirth.

He knew beyond doubt that it was Will in the booth next to him. That scent was more like home than any house he’d ever lived in.

“I, uh…” Will started, not sure how to go about this, but Hannibal loved his games, and loved when Will played along. “It’s been… never.”

A tsk rolled off the end of Hannibal’s tongue whilst his lips curved up into a smile. “I see.” Hannibal’s voice was stern this time. “I suspect then there is much wickedness to account for and penance to dole out.”

Hannibal let that hang as he settled himself against the wooden pew inside the small booth. The scent of myrrh and frankincense snaking their way inside to fill his scenes with a soothing air. “Do tell me, my child, what sins have you come here to confess to Our Father?” 

“Where to start,” Will sighed, leaning back, slouching in the bench now where he sat, legs splayed out in front of him, arms crossed over his chest. “I ate the last of the casserole last week and blamed it on the dogs.”

Hannibal’s licked over his lips and pulled in a deep breath, fingers clenching tighter in his lap. “And why would one feel the need to lie about that especially when one knows that lying is a  _ sin _ .” Hannibal let the last word slap the air between them.

Will knew exactly what he is doing and Hannibal is determined not to rile, yet.

“My husband, he is very particular about manners. I should have asked first. He was pretty upset,” Will answered with a sigh, knowing full well it would start to grate on Hannibal.

“The dogs did pee in the house. I lied about that, too. I cleaned it before he got back.”

Hannibal’s face sets in an icy mask, lids lowering till all that is left of his eyes are dark slits of rage. Still, his voice is steady, “Tell me, my son, is anything that comes out of your mouth  _ not _ a lie? One might almost say you indulge in lying like it was a sport.”

“Well, maybe that wasn’t so much a lie, as I didn’t tell him,” Will sighed, but he grinned to himself, fully aware he was starting in under Hannibal’s skin. “Plenty I say isn’t a lie. Misleading maybe, but my husband is the master of that one, I have to stay on my toes some how.”

“I see.” Hannibal said in all serious. “And you are aware it is a heinous sin to lie under the roof of the Lord? Penance could be, brutal.”

“Have I lied,  _ Father _ ?” Will asked, hands pressed to his thighs now as he bent over a little, ear closer to the screen keeping them apart and from seeing each other. “I thought I was confessing. I have many other confessions to make.”

“The Lord will know any truth that  _ lies _ in your heart, my  _ son _ .” Hannibal closed his eyes as Will bought into the game with such fervor. “It sounds like you have been quite the sinful child. The Lord is listening. Continue.” Hannibal waved his hand just so and waited.

“I’ve been sinning since the day I met my husband. We’ve been very…  _ sinful _ together.” Will pushed his glasses up his nose, and sat back. “I have never known myself as well as I know myself around him.”

Hannibal’s eyes opened as his gaze flicked to the side briefly, trying to catch a glimpse of Will through the grate. Although perfectly still, Will knew he had Hannibal squirming. “Hm, it sounds like your husband has led you into temptation. Deep, deep into temptation. Do tell me of these... _ sins _ so the Lord may both forgive and  _ punish _ , appropriately to cleanse your horrid, blackened heart.”

Will kept his gaze on the door in front of him, ever watchful even though he knew Hannibal had made sure they were utterly alone, his guard was hardly ever down. “I killed my boss for him. For  _ me _ , too, I guess. I… liked it.”

“Lord have mercy,” Hannibal quipped. “What is it about  _ murder _ that you enjoy so much?” He leaned his head against the wood, eyes slowly closing as he rubbed a long finger over his lips, the echo of Will’s morning kiss still sitting there.

It was hard to say, exactly, but it was a feeling that Will felt when he had done, even if he had been appalled at the time, the more he saw of it, the more comfortable he was in blood soaked clothes. He hadn’t killed anyone since then, but not without Hannibal’s hand trying. Will was doing his best to keep it to a minimum, afraid that if he did it more often, he might just  _ love _ it.

“It’s beautiful,” Will stated with a little sigh. “Hannibal’s passion just after a kill is like nothing else either. Seeing him covered in blood makes me-” Will stopped there, biting his own lip and canted his head toward the barrier between them. “-squirm.”

Hannibal craned his jaw and gripped his thighs that bit tighter as Will played him perfectly at his own game. And oh, if the cannibal didn’t adore  _ that _ . “Are you  _ squirming _ now, my son? Confessing to these heinous sins and just how much you indulge and delight in them? Do you enjoy feeling such filth roll past your tongue?”

Hannibal’s head canted to the side as he pressed one hand to the wood, gently, as if caressing it.

“I shouldn’t, but I do.” Will leaned back, legs splayed, and pressed his palm in against his groin. “It makes me so very,  _ very _ hard just thinking about it, much less  _ confessing _ it.” His voice drop an an octave as he set fire to nerves that made his eyes bloom dark with lust.

“I’d never tell him, but it gets me going when he wears his dumb little costumes,” Will all but purred, leaning his head against the wooden barrier.

Hannibal sucked over his tongue, resisting the urge to palm down over his own aching erection. “You do realize it is a sin to fornicate in the Lord’s house, much less over the idea of bloodlust, you wicked child.” His clawed fingers were now raking down his thighs and he let his head loll back against the wood, swallowing hard.

“You find, erotic pleasure in seeing your husband perform for you, so to speak? Are you thinking about him wearing a priest’s costume, complete with black robe and clerical collar right now? Would it send you positively primal to know that there was nothing underneath that robe?” Hannibal purred right back. “Because such lewd thoughts would incur the Lord’s wrath and the need for great penance, my child.”

“Thinking?” Will breathed out, “No. _ Imagining _ ? Yes.” It was what Will was good at, after all, using his imagination. “If he were, I’d gladly get to my knees and suck his cock while he took  _ other _ confessions.”

Will slowly undid his pants, and palmed a hand down his shaft.

Hannibal stifled a groan as he heard the zipper pull down and caught the scent of Will’s musk on the air between them. “Even if it meant you had to take penance for such confessions. The Lord can be very unforgiving of sensual wickedness.” More of a promise than a threat but still the words were delivered heavy and severe.

“Ten times over,” Will breathed, head back against the wall, chin tilted up as he ground his palm against his hardening cock, giving a little groan. “I’m already a sinner, what’s one more thing to put on my list, Father?”

Hannibal let out a long, sharp exhale. “One might almost think you delight in punishment.”

Silence.

The church groaned and echoed around them as the beams creaked and the glass what shuddered by the howling winds of night. Just enough sounds to mask Hannibal as he moved with stealth to rip open the confessional door and stare down at Will. The candle light behind him casting him only in a severe silhouette and a shadow that blew across the half dishevelled mall cop’s face.

“Knees.”

Startled, Will stared at Hannibal for a good long moment, seeing mostly the shadow of him, but his imagination was more than enough to make up for it. He slowly dropped to his knees in front of the priest, gazing up at him with big, blue lust darkened eyes. Leaning in, Will nosed against Hannibal’s crotch, against the robe, his own cock harder and stiff just seeing Hannibal like this.

It was his favorite yet.

Hannibal carded long fingers through Will’s curls tenderly, at first. He let them drop to ghost over his jaw, hooking under the bone with a single finger to turn his face up to look at him. Oh yes, he did look  _ deserved _ on his knees. As he rubbed his cheek he purred with far more menace than a purr should ever allow, “Confess.”

“Confess what?” he asked, gazing up at Hannibal, hands snaking up Hannibal’s ankles to his thighs, under the robe, crawling his way closer and closer to the musky heat underneath. “That my mouth is watering just thinking about sucking your cock?”

Hannibal snatched a handful of hair and tugged Will’s head back, baring his throat but did nothing to stop his wandering hands, “That you would dare to presume to such you Father’s cock,” he tsked with a hint of a smile.

“Confess,” he started again, far more demanding and cruel and he yanked Will back even further, away from where the insolent man wanted to put his mouth. Patience was a virtue, after all.

Will’s eyes, though very turned on at the moment, turned deadly serious as he all but glared at Hannibal. “I’m secretly glad the drugged delusion you put me in and gave me was fake, as I would never want to have your babies.”

Hannibal canted his head to the side with a loving smile painting itself over his features. His grip loosened on Will’s curls as he stroked down the side of his face and held him lightly under his jaw, “Wrath is a sin that burns the holder well. Revelations. Tell me, Will, what penance shall you do in light of that wrathful tongue of yours, so laced in fire?”

“Why should I give penance at all?” Will asked, still at Hannibal’s feet, head forced to keep eye contact with the other man. The air grew thick between them, a making or breaking, and Will knew he’d said something to throw the whole thing off, He threw the rock into see exactly what would happen.

Hannibal let go only to smudge his thumb across Will’s lips, “Because you want to. Why else would you be on your knees in the house of The Lord?” The words were warm where Hannibal’s expression, was not.

“As a servant of the Lord, I think it’s you,  _ father _ , who must deal out penance,” Will said, teeth gritted slightly, jaw tense, but his pants still hung open, he was still hard at the thought, able to feel the heat of Hannibal so close.

Hannibal nodded once, acceding to Will’s request as he stepped back and made way for Will to stand and walk out of the confessional. As he waited he drew up to his full height, a sharp inhale filling his lungs as he glanced once at the altar and back to Will.

Hardly a request, but Hannibal wanted to play the part, Will would do as he always did and play along, for now. It definitely kept their lives interesting, not that it needed it. So, Will stood slowly, doing up his pants so they would not fall around his ankles.

Hands clasped behind his back, Hannibal walked towards the altar. The swirl of the black robe around his long legs and tailored from the waist up, accentuating the width of his shoulders, cut an imposing figure as Hannibal waited by the wooden altar, dressed up in purple cloth and oversee by a low hanging crucifix. The scene painted in muted eerie tones where the incense wove its way through. Long fingers brushed along the silken cloth as he waited for Will to join him at his side.

Will did, slowly, taking everything in, and where lust had been, he now wondered if Hannibal had other plans to begin with. Wouldn’t be the first time, of course. Hannibal turned his head just enough to catch Will’s eye before he stepped behind him. Large hands curled over the curve of Will’s shoulders and pulled him back hard against the plate of his chest, keeping his head leaning back against his shoulder and face to face with the beauty of the grotesque that the church so readily dressed itself in. Pain. Blood. Suffering. Fire. Nothing short of a stroll around the garden. Skilled fingers made quick work of buttons and peeling the cotton shirt back and down, leaving Will’s torso naked.

“That the saints may enjoy their beatitude and the grace of God more abundantly they are permitted to see the punishment of the damned in hell. Thomas Aquinas.” Hannibal mused more to himself than Will as long arms, cloaked in black, reached around to start work on undoing Will’s pants.

Will’s head rested back against Hannibal’s broad shoulder, eyes only kept on everything in front of him, half closed now as he felt his ‘husband’s’ heat through his clothes the more naked he became. “Hardly seems like a punishment,” he murmured, hands coming to rest up on Hannibal’s forearms.

“Or despisest thou the riches of his goodness, and patience, and longsuffering? Knowest thou not, that the benignity of God leadeth thee to penance? Romans, 2:4,” Hannibal pushed down Will’s pants and going on his knees, helped him step out of his clothes. 

As he slowly rose to standing Hannibal let his nose, hands and most importantly, priest robe brush up the planes of Will’s legs and back. With both hands cupped over his ass he pressed Will hard against the altar and murmured in his ear, “Naked before, God. Nothing in all creation is hidden from God's sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account. Hebrews, 4:13.”

Hannibal pushed a hand up into Will’s hair and slowly bent him over until his face was flush against the altar, his ass presented perfectly. Pressing himself over Will, Hannibal growled in his ear, “Confess.”

A gasp escaped Will first, cool against the altar, burning heat pressed into him from behind left him feeling beyond lust driven, despite Hannibal turn, the spark that was always between them igniting once again. Even in his prone position, Will felt powerful, as he knew Hannibal only ever did this for him. These games, these roles, they were theirs.

“I am needy, Father,” he groaned against the altar, his face  planted there, panting now. “I lust for my husband, even now at the altar meant for praying to God, but I am begging to be  _ fucked _ .”

“You can still pray, little one. Even as you beg and even with a cock in your ass” Hannibal let his tongue curl with a tsk that brushed hot over Will’s ear.

Making sure to keep Will pinned with his weight, the heavy cloth rubbing between them, he pushed three fingers into Will’s mouth and started to murmur, “Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. Philippians 4:11-13” Hannibal slipped a hand down between them and brushed a sopping but delicate touch over Will’s entrance. “How badly do you want to be fucked? Confess…” His tone softer now as he teased his rim.

Will could feel himself losing every ounce of control in this situation, but for once maybe he didn’t mind. Add another notch to the pole for Hannibal.

“Hannibal-” he groaned, hands against the altar, trying to get himself upright, but Hannibal had him pinned hard, and distracted. He rolled his hips back slowly. “Daddy Bear’s Little Wolf wants it badly,” he said, using the nicknames they didn’t particularly love but it come to be a fond thing between them, even after the last row.

“Hard, right in God’s house.”

Hannibal pushed his lips hard against the back of Will’s neck, “I think the term, ‘Our Father’ would be more fitting, my little  _ sinner _ .”

As he let his teeth sink into Will, two fingers pushed in, just the same, curling and massaging, searching out that ridge of nerves that would have Will yield completely.

His fingers thrust in and out at an agonizingly slow pace. “But he that shall blaspheme against the Holy Ghost hath never forgiveness, but is in danger of eternal damnation. Mark 3:29.” With each word of the verse he punctuated with another slow stroke of fingers, his whole, stoic frame rocking down on the writhing mess of flesh below.

Will moved his head to side to gaze back at Hannibal with a darkening look, eyes lust blown now. If he didn’t want this, he would have said, but the way his hands gripped the altar and pressed back against Hannibal’s fingers would give all his cards away in the end.

“Guess I’m taking you with me.”

Hannibal bared down on Will as he reached over him and gripped the altar, crushing the smaller man entirely. He dragged an open mouthed kiss over his neck and growled against his cheek, “In your anger do not sin. Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold. Anyone who has been stealing must steal no longer, but must work, doing something useful with their own hands, that they may have something to share with those in need. Ephesians 4:26-31”

Pushing his robes back just enough, he lined himself up, the head of his swollen cock pushing against his entrance as his palm circled the curve of his ass and then slapped it, hard. The smack of flesh hitting flesh echoing around the darkened Chapel. “Confess to your  _ Father _ .” The hot words landing hotly against the corner of his lips.

“Fuck me already,” Will gasped, losing every bit of patience with Hannibal at this point, his body rearing back, flush hot with need that Hannibal was not putting the fire out in, but merely stroking the flames.

Hannibal smiled at the corner of Will’s lips. “Rude.”

At the same time, he cracked his hips forward, filling Will fully and completely, splitting his velvet heat and pounding without mercy, no care for the pain it would be causing the body guard as he squirmed below. Hannibal took all that he wanted. One hand curled over Will’s hip the other pressing down on the altar. And as he felt the tight muscles of Will’s ass clench around his cock, he trained his eyes up to gaze on the saints, a groan crawling up his throat as his skin pulsed with sparks of wanton bliss.

A moan escaped his mouth with each thrust, gasps alike as he held fast, taking Hannibal’s full length, the nerves deep inside him starting to catch fire with the rest of his body, like lighting another match.

“Hannibal--  _ Father _ ,” the word rolled off his tongue before he could think twice, his body aching for release, even though they’d just started.

Hannibal’s head keened into the back of Will’s neck as his name rolled off his tongue. He clasped over the edge of the altar with both hands and using the leverage the position gave him, fucked up harder into Will. The younger man writhed under Hannibal, and then pushed up, and back.

“Let me see you.”

Hannibal lips curled up into a knowing smile, determined to string this pleasure out. Snatching a handful of Will’s hair, he tugged his head back, forcing him to look up at the saints and the idols as they were lit by the low, flickering lights, “Are you not looking upon me as you look upon, God?” As he spoke he snaked an arm around his middle, tugging him back and driving deeper.

“You don’t consider yourself God,” Will grunted, preening back into Hannibal’s fist and cock, “You think yourself  _ better _ .”

Hannibal’s mouth formed a thin line as he pushed Will back down, hand releasing his hair to palm down the ridges of his spine, still thrusting. “Knowing the fear of the Lord, we persuade others. But what we are is known to God, and I hope it is known also to your conscience. Corinthians.” He rolled his hips, almost lazily as he watched Will’s silken flesh and taut muscles flex against the face of the altar.

Talking was simply useless now as Hannibal only quoted. Will, instead, focused on rolling his naked hips back against Hannibal, feeling his cock dig deep inside of him, trying to hit that perfect spot just  _ so _ .

Although no empath, Hannibal could feel Will’s agitation roll off him in waves, “Frustrated, little sinner?” Hannibal used the arm wrapped around his middle to pull him back whilst at the same time, pressing the balls of his feet into the floor to push ever deeper inside, thrusting for that secret spot.

“Harder-” was all the younger man demanded, groaning as Hannibal started to beat up into that spot, sweat not sheening over his skin, catching the flickering candlelight.

Never wanting to be anything but a considerate lover, Hannibal kept one arm around Will’s waist and stretched his other arm to grip over the altar again. With a sharp drawn breath, Hannibal lifted Will up as he drove into his ass, thrusting as deep as flesh and bone would allow.

Pleasureable heat rose through his loins, Will leaning back, as much as he could, gripping Hannibal’s hand around him with sharp nails, taking in gasping breaths as he started to come completely unraveled.

As Hannibal felt Will start to come undone, the heat and clenching around his cock along with the echoing sounds of pleasure rolling off Will’s tongue drew up a quick spiralling heat in the cannibal. With head dropping forward and hips thrusting, white sparks flew up his spine and behind carrying with them waves of ecstasy that drove him towards the edge of pleasure.

Clutching on to Hannibal’s hand, Will bared down on his cock as his whole body started to tense in unwavering waves of ecstasy, throbbing around Hannibal as he spurt streams of cum across the altar.

Watching Will blaspheme so beautifully, Hannibal arched back and with one hand digging deep into Will’s flesh and the other dragging through the come stained altar, he found his release and a heady wave of bliss rolled through him and filled Will’s ass with his seed.

The brunet rumbled a pleased sound, limp and lithe now as his hands clutched to the altar let go, finally, and he shuddered on Hannibal’s release, a slow rutting against his cock to try and juice every last bit out of him.

He looked over his shoulder; “Confession.” A beat. ”I think I’m in love…” If he meant it or not would remain to be seen, as the word coyly slipped from his lips.

Hannibal rose to standing behind Will, his cock still nested deep inside and his hands trailing over his sweaty back. As he gazed down to catch Will’s coy look Hannibal canted his head as let his hand sweep across the profiler’s shoulder, “And you would consider that a sin?” His tone hummed the words, aware that Will was likely playing him at his own game.

“Is it a sin to love another man?” Will asked, shoulders rolling at Hannibal’s touch. He meant the words, as he would have to love someone like Hannibal to have stayed this long in such conditions.

Hannibal tilted his hips back and slid out of Will. As he adjusted his robes he pulled Will up with his other hand and nudged him to turn and face him. With one arm pressed against the altar holding Will just there, he brushed his fingers under his chin, “Then the Lord has made sinner of us both.” He leaned and pressed his lips to Will’s just lightly, at first as a hum hovered in his throat.

Will let his fingers skim against Hannibal’s robes, and then grasped them at his waist, and pulled him closer, sealing his fate with a deeper kiss. “I guess we’ll rot in hell together, too.”

“I am not letting you go to hell any time soon, Will.” Hannibal stroked a hand down Will’s face, cradling his jaw, and then arched him back against the altar as his tongue delved into his mouth with a low rumbling groan, his other hand clutching Will’s naked hip.


End file.
